


an old song and dance

by SilverRollu



Series: on the brink of (something) [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Advent Children, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRollu/pseuds/SilverRollu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She feels calm. This is territory she <i>knows</i>, her body against his, this building urgency; it's another dance they've performed, in the past, before Cloud was gone for weeks on end, before the stress of raising two kids and running a business began to pile up – <i>before.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	an old song and dance

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I've written something sexual, I just hope it sounds alright. It's not TOO explicit but, well

When the night's particularly rambunctious crowd forces her to close up earlier than usual, Tifa knows she's having one of _those_ days. Cloud throws the last few stragglers out, locking the doors once they've gone and then just stands there. Tifa watches him for a moment and wonders if he's getting ready to walk out that door himself. Wondering if this crazy night, or even just the last few days that he's actually been here, was tiring enough for him to be lingering at the exit like that, waiting.

These thoughts are tiring however, so Tifa busies herself with wiping down her counter, fast circular motions, so that she feels more than sees Cloud finally step away from the door. A few moments and he's picking up toppled chairs and fixing up tables. She's so glad for him in that moment because good help is hard to come by these days, and she can only handle so much of a mess in one night.

When she's done with the counter she begins sweeping and Cloud carries the dirty dishes to the sink. For a time they're delicately dancing around each other; Tifa moves and Cloud shuffles away, following a choreography that Tifa's laid out for him before – how to properly clean beer mugs, how the liquor is organized, how the rags are hung once everything is straightened and proper. When Cloud moves Tifa waltzes behind the counter, looking about the place and, now that she's pleased with its look, pours herself a drink.

Cloud has taken up a seat at the bar in front of her, and she offers him one, which he declines. That's fine, Tifa thinks. She knocks her own glass back and sighs, a short and tight thing, before pouring another. Standing there becomes unappealing so she rounds the corner and pulls up a stool next to Cloud, the ice in her glass tinkling when she sets it back down. It falls silent.

The kids have been put to bed hours ago, and with the patrons gone the building is peaceful in an almost hollow way. Cloud isn't looking at her, as he's found some scuff in the wood in front of him and is picking at it with some childish focus, rubbing over it as if he could smooth it out if he tried hard enough. His gloves creak. Tifa sighs and takes a sip.

Finally, she says, “Barret's coming tomorrow.” Cloud glances her way and she feels vaguely successful. “Said he wants to take Marlene with him for a few days, family bonding and all that.” She chuckles, eyes fluttering closed for a few seconds. “He was _very_ excited about it.”

Cloud makes an affirmative noise, goes back to staring at his scuff. “He's been working hard – he deserves the time off.”

Tifa nods but eyes Cloud still. He looks like some kid, bored, awkward; attributes she would've found cuter had they been young again. Now it just makes it seem like he doesn't even want to be there, and the annoyance grows in the pit of her stomach even though she's insistently trying to quell it. If he wants to leave that badly why doesn't he _just –_

“You're right. Everyone deserves some time off every now and then.” _Especially after what we've been through_ , though she doesn't say it, it echoes in the room all the same, and she feels the sigh roll out of her lungs before she raises her drink to her lips again. There's a nasty feeling coiling under her skin and she's hoping the alcohol will burn it away before it consumes her.

It's been a terrible night, a terrible _week_ even, if she'll admit it to herself, because she's just been so damn _busy_ . She's been building 7  th  Heaven back up from the bottom again, and taking care of Marlene and Denzel. And even Cloud, sometimes. Tifa was hopelessly excited when he returned, but the longer he stays, helping around the bar and running errands and humoring the kids, the more this sick worry nags at her. He's going to leave again. Maybe he's just waiting for the perfect time to.

She can't even be angry at him for it either, at least never for long. Tifa knows Cloud needs his space, for comfort, for figuring out his own problems and emotions. He's not one to stay in one place, even as a little kid back in the mountains, running away from home with big dreams of becoming a hero. Cloud Strife... runs away. But Tifa's not angry for it more than she's sad, that he thinks he doesn't have a home even when he's right here, at _home_.

Tonight, like every other night, her annoyance bubbles down to _sympathy_ and everything about her is tight and resigned. Her thoughts start to run in circles and she doesn't bother breaking the silence again, just takes another sip. And another, and another, until her glass is empty and she considers pouring another one.

“Tifa.”

“Hm?” Tifa doesn't look up from her glass. She fiddles with it instead.

“You should get some sleep.”

Tifa hums low to that, spinning her glass and watching the ice cubes fall against each other. Her smile is small.

“Teef.”

“I'll go soon. I promise.”

She finally hazards a glance Cloud's way and he's staring at her in that intense way of his, blue eyes narrowed but soft. It's not his usual, hardened look; it's warmer, familiar. Enthralled, she holds his gaze, feeling it slowly eat away at the unpleasantness that's settled in her bones.

But it's a little too intense, so after a few moments Tifa breaks their staring contest and makes to fill her glass again. Cloud catches her hand before she can, however, and he holds it firmly. He leads her away from the bar, and Tifa lets him. She doesn't realize how tired she is until he's all but pulling her up the stairs, leading her to her own bedroom.

She feels floaty. Two drinks doesn't do much but a warm buzz for her, so she knows it's the look in Cloud's eyes, the strangely determined gaze. He locks the door. Tifa takes off her boots, her jacket, her shorts. She hears the thuds that indicate Cloud ditching his belts and buckles, the sound prompting her to turn his way.

“Keepin' me company tonight?” Her voice comes out a little tired even to her own ears, but the playfulness isn't lost, and when she lies down on the bed Cloud crawls on top of her, the barest hint of a smile visible on his own lips.

He touches her skin with his now bare fingers and she's filled with nostalgia. Everything about the way his hands feel, mapping the curves of her body, or his mouth, open kisses against her throat, is painfully familiar. She feels calm. This is territory she _knows_ , her body against his, this building urgency; it's another dance they've performed, in the past, before Cloud was gone for weeks on end, before the stress of raising two kids and running a business began to pile up – _before._

Cloud kisses her collarbone, her breasts, trails his lips down the length of her navel while his hands rub good vibes into her skin. Tifa shudders, sighs when he parts her thighs and slides down. His breath is warm, and Tifa's fingers find purchase in his hair when his mouth makes contact and her hips twitch instinctively.

Her sense of time slips away until all she knows in that moment is _him_ , his tongue, his fingers. She's gasping and biting her bottom lip to bid the louder noises from leaving her throat. Cloud's done this enough to know just how to make her _tick_ , and Tifa swears he's smiling against her when she comes, hips buckling, hands slipping from Cloud's hair to his shoulders and _squeezing_.

When she comes down she crashes hard. She's drained, and while a warm, pleasurable feeling clings to her she feels the exhaustion more than ever. Time hasn't returned for her, not yet, so she doesn't know when Cloud began to clean up and move her under the covers, she just knows that he's still tucking her in when she opens her eyes again.

“Cloud...” She wants to say ' _what about you_ ,' but what comes out is “are you leaving?”

Cloud swipes at the hair that's fallen in her face, and her eyes fall shut again. “No.”

He slides into the bed next to her. Tifa faces him, and it looks like he's thinking about something, his eyes focused at a place just past her. Tifa doesn't try to figure out what he's doing. She's done thinking about it, at least for now. Sleep sounds heavenly to her, all limp limbs and weary bones, and she lets herself come to terms with the fact that she may wake up in the morning and find that Cloud's left, to wherever he goes when _here_ is too much for him.

Tifa wants to tell him that he's always welcome here at home. Because she wants him, her best friend, her – this, whatever _this_ is. She tenses like she's going to speak, but Cloud presses his lips to the top of her hair and she slips into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> would you believe that my main view of their relationship is "mostly platonic, sometimes fuck-buddies" because


End file.
